Inter Alia
by backinthebox
Summary: A collection of short one-shot vignettes and stories based on one-word/phrase/line prompts.
1. I Swear It Was An Accident

**Prompt: "I swear it was an accident."**

* * *

She's not exactly sure how it happened, all she knows is that one moment she was talking to Cynthia Rose and Ashley, and then the next there was a loud, audible gasp and the beer that was supposed to be in her cup was on Aubrey.

Okay, she knows her first instinct should be spouting a profound apology, but sue her if her mind went straight to the gutter because when soaked through, Aubrey's blue shirt clung deliciously well on the blonde's body.

She was raised right. She knew she should be apologizing.

So _why_ were the first words out of her mouth, "I swear it was an accident."

Aubrey, Ashley, and Chloe all stared at her in disbelief, while Cynthia Rose looked on like it was the best damn show she'd ever come across.

Aubrey merely grunted in response, and in a way that Stacie had only ever imagined in slow motion, started to unbutton her soaked shirt, and if Aubrey sporting a tight, wet button-down shirt had stirred Stacie's want, watching her peel said shirt off was a whole other level of hot.

She's sure she could stop staring at one point.

"Stop staring." Ashley hissed.

Stacie would've answered falsely, but then Aubrey revealed herself to be wearing a tight black tank top, and there was no point lying. She took the cup from Aubrey's hand and drank it down to keep from implicating herself.

Aubrey turned to Chloe, and lifted her shirt. "This needs to soak. And I'm all wet."

Okay, that wasn't fair. Stacie bit her lower lip, because _oh so many_ things she could say to that.

Chloe smiled in sympathy at Aubrey, and nodded. "Want me to go with you?"

"I'll be fine." Aubrey shook her head, and turning to the rest of the Barden Bellas, gave them a faint smile, her gaze lingering on Stacie a beat longer than with anyone else. "Enjoy your night."

Stacie watched her go, until she realized her friends were all looking at her. "What?'

"Honestly, I expected you to be smoother." Ashley admitted.

Stacie frowned. "What?"

"Throwing your beer at her?" Chloe reminded. "That wasn't nice."

"I didn't…" Stacie turned to Cynthia Rose, who only nodded. Her expression went from confused to horrified. " _No_."

"And you just kept staring," Cynthia Rose added. "Girl probably thinks you threw that cup on purpose."

Stacie couldn't scramble out of her chair and out of the room fast enough, catching up with Aubrey just outside the building. She grabbed the girl's arm, forcing her to turn, and Stacie would have killed whoever put such a sad face on Aubrey's expression except she knew it was her fault. "I'm sorry. That wasn't… I didn't… It was an accident."

"You've said."

"No, I mean," Stacie shook her head. "Synaptic misfire. I wanted you out of that shirt and I guess my hand…" Stacie frowned as she finished her sentence feebly, "took matters in its own hands… I swear I make more sense than this usually."

Aubrey blinked, her expression now a lot less sad and more confused. "You wanted me out my shirt?"

Stacie's eyes widened in mortification. "I swear I'm not a perv."

"And then what?"

Say what now? Stacie blinked. "Huh?"

"Mission accomplished." Aubrey lifted her damp shirt. "Now what?"

Stacie gaped at her, because _what_?

Aubrey smiled faintly, and nodded. "You think about that, because beer smells foul when left out, and I wouldn't mind smelling like a brewery but we're clearly going to have to go out so I can teach you how to choose your beer, because this cheap stuff is disgusting and I'm just soaked in it."

Stacie had to smile. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Well, you've already tried and succeeded to get me to take off my clothes, so…"

She's pretty sure she's skipping ahead so many steps, but for all her daydreaming she'd never imagined Flirty Aubrey, and her mouth tastes of the caramel-tinged beer she'd been drinking and Stacie can't help but wonder what Aubrey tastes like without the beer. And by the way Aubrey's kissing her back, she clearly doesn't mind the way Stacie had stolen her drink earlier.

When they break the kiss, panting softly, Aubrey can't help but ask, "synaptic misfire?"

Stacie grinned. "Wish fulfillment."


	2. Candles

**Prompt: Candles**

* * *

"So," Stacie began hesitantly, because it's not every day you run into your sort-of ex in some random town and end up having coffee with her, and there were some pressing questions that she can't help but ask, "Chloe said you were engaged to some guy."

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "Fucking… _Chloe_."

Stacie raised an eyebrow, because Aubrey rarely cursed in expletives, and never about Chloe.

"No, I'm not engaged," Aubrey informed her, spitting out the word as if the idea was vile. "I was dating this guy, but…"

Stacie waited.

Aubrey took a moment, trying to come up with an accurate summation of her ex-boyfriend, maybe one without having to revert to cursing and expletives, but failed to find the words. So instead she shook her head, and let the topic die there. She looked up at Stacie. "I'd ask about you, but considering you're, well, _you_ , and—"

"What do you mean?" Stacie interrupted, frowning. "What, because I like to sleep around, that automatically means I still just hook up with the next hot guy or girl that crosses my path, is that it?"

Aubrey, obviously taken aback by the vehemence in Stacie's tone, blinked blankly at her, before slowly elaborating. "Because you're smart and nice and really pretty, and anyone would be lucky to have you."

Which, okay, she knew those weren't a declaration of love, or anything, but Stacie can admit that knowing Aubrey still thought those things about her kind of made her heart flutter a little. She sighed. "I don't know. Dating's not as fun as it used to be, and work keeps me swamped almost all the time, with this patent and another one pending."

"I know," Aubrey agreed. "At one point you just kind of take what comes along, and stop holding out for true love, or whatever."

" _Right_?" Stacie nodded. She paused, and then chuckled softly, shaking her head. "God, I wish college freshman me knew she'd end up kind of dating you for a while. It would've blown her mind."

"Why?" Aubrey asked, taking a sip from her cup of coffee, deciding not to pick up on the fact that Stacie had used the term 'dating' for whatever had gone on between them during her senior year in college.

"Well, you already know I had the biggest crush on you." Stacie pointed out. "But freshman me had no idea the sex would've been off the charts."

"Because I was uptight and a pain in the ass?" Aubrey guessed.

"More along the lines that I thought you were _way_ out of my league."

" _I_ was out of _your_ league?" Aubrey repeated incredulously. "You had everyone lining up just for a chance for you to _look_ at them. And I know what you girls thought about my love life, by the way, and I'm pretty sure you all thought I was holding out for magical true love sex."

Stacie snorted indelicately. "Magical true love sex? What is that, you and me having soft-focus lovemaking on silk sheets and crushed velvet pillows, in a room full of lit candles, with violins or Barry White playing in the background?"

Aubrey paused, and gave her a curious look. "That's… an _elaborate_ scenario."

Stacie nudged her with her foot, embarrassed. "Shut up."

"No, that came really quickly to you." Aubrey teased.

Stacie looked down at her cup, unwilling to look Aubrey in the eye.

"…And sounds a lot like soft-core porn." Aubrey mused, making Stacie snap her head back up, because _what_? Aubrey grinned. "Why does 'magical true love sex' bear a resemblance to soft-core porn to you?"

"Oh my God, _shut up_." Stacie groaned, before she paused and looked at Aubrey. "Why do you know what soft-core porn looks like?"

"I have needs." Aubrey shrugged.

Stacie arched an eyebrow in intrigue, and leaned forward, teasing, "Tell me more."

Aubrey laughed, because _now_ they were playing. "So does this mean I should be investing in crushed velvet pillows?"

Stacie tilted her head to the side, and while she knew she'd been the one to open this can of worms, had to ask, "Are you saying you want us to have magical true love sex?"


	3. Green

**Prompt: Green**

warning: Pop culture references abound.

[note: thank you for the reviews and the follows, dear readers.]

* * *

Maybe she should have asked if she could have veto power on her dress.

Or asked if all the bridesmaids were wearing the same dress.

Because Aubrey had thought she'd looked _okay_ , in the teal dress that was to be the color of the wedding party. It wasn't the most flattering of dresses, and there were sleeves, and ruffles, and weird Celtic embroidery she couldn't help but wonder about, but she'd looked _okay_. But now, as she sighted the Maid of Honor, she had to stop and reconsider, and, okay, maybe the green dress just looked that much better on some other people.

She wanted to hate the girl, really, and she could admit that she did, those first ten seconds upon meeting her contemporary, but she'd been so nice and had been her only accomplice so far this weekend, wrangling the bride- and groom-to-be to their respective duties, and even Aubrey had ended up handing the other girl a sandwich and drink on Friday night after the rehearsal dinner, because as Maid of Honor, and the liaison between the bridal party and the wedding planner, she'd barely gotten to eat. They were a _team_ , now.

Stacie smiled at her as Aubrey joined her at the front of the room, and gave her an appreciative once-over. "Nice dress."

Aubrey rolled her eyes at the obvious lie.

Stacie laughed. "That's what you get for trusting a bride and her mother with the dresses."

"Sure, laugh. I can't believe anyone paid for this dress."

Stacie shrugged. "You're Best Man. Shouldn't you be all Marlene Dietrich-y in a dashing tuxedo number?"

"Yeah, let's go ask the mother of the bride." Aubrey retorted.

"Right." Stacie immediately backed down, because as Maid of Honor, she had witnessed firsthand just how much of the details had been controlled by her best friend's mother. She paused, and then turned back to Aubrey. "I'd still do you."

Aubrey raised an eyebrow at her. "You're already Maid of Honor, Stacie. I'm pretty sure you get dibs on Best Man."

Stacie made a face at her. "Maybe now I _don't_ want to sleep with the Best Man."

"Suit yourself." Aubrey shrugged, and glanced around, searching for a clock. "That minister's taking his damn sweet time."

"Did you just swear in a church?"

"I'm a lapsed Christian _and_ gay, I'm already on God's hit list." Aubrey replied. She glanced behind her, at the back of the altar, just to check, before turning back to face the doors. "Nondenominational. I might not go to hell, after all."

Stacie grinned. "Why are they even getting married so soon, anyway? It's not like either of them are waiting for marriage for sex."

Aubrey glanced questioningly at her.

"I live with Jenny, okay, and your best friend makes a lot of noise when he has sex."

Aubrey grimaced. "I could have lived forever not knowing that about Brody."

"You're welcome." Stacie replied easily. She nudged Aubrey. "So? Any insider information on the whirlwind wedding?"

"Maybe they're just that crazy about each other?"

"Crazy is right." Stacie shook her head. She frowned at the sight of the crowd, and picked up on the earlier thread of conversation by making an idle observation. "Who the hell picks green as a wedding motif?"

"Something about spring and growth and fertility, I don't know." Aubrey shook her head. "I spaced out when Brody explained it to me."

"Why would anyone want to get married surrounded by green?"

"Why do people get married, _at all_?" Asked the girl whose parents' divorce would be understated if called acrimonious.

"I don't know." Stacie shrugged, since her own parents had divorced pretty amicably, but still put her off the whole concept of marriage. "Sex?"

"Money, and an alliance between kingdoms." Aubrey agreed.

"If that were still true, we could end up getting married today." Stacie noted.

Aubrey paused, and turned to look questioningly at the taller girl.

Stacie faltered, and explained slowly, "because of the medieval history of the wedding party…?"

Aubrey raised an eyebrow.

"Because the Maid of Honor and the Best Man are supposed to stand in for either member of the people supposed to get married, if they can't for some reason?" Stacie hastened to explain further, because _no way_ did she just imply she would marry Aubrey. Who she just met. And hasn't gone out on a date with. Or slept with. Or even _kissed_. "That's why there's a whole party of groomsmen and bridesmaids, so they can work down the line until the kings and queens can agree on a pair and—" She stopped when she saw Aubrey biting on her lip, obviously fighting to keep from smiling. She scowled at the other woman, realizing what had just happened. "That was mean."

"I'm sorry!" Aubrey burst out laughing. "But I wanted to see how you were going to work your way out of that hole."

Stacie pouted, and crossed her arms petulantly. "Now I _really_ don't want to sleep with you."

"After saying we could get married?" Aubrey teased.

"It's not nice to make fun of your possible bride, you know."

"But you were adorable!" Aubrey protested. "Who knew the bride's hot best friend was a history geek?"

"I hate you so much right now."

"Good thing the alliance between our kingdoms isn't reliant on us liking each other." Aubrey shrugged. "Not that it mattered in medieval times."

"I would _so_ send you off to war." Stacie muttered.

"Not before I took you behind the castle and got you pregnant." Aubrey noted offhandedly. "Have to preserve the family line, you know."

Stacie couldn't help but smile, because _this_ was the witty banter that had kept her sane throughout the wedding weekend. Before she could say anything, however, there was some activity near the side doors, and one of the church people gave them a thumbs-up, indicating the minister was in the building. She exchanged a look with Aubrey, and they both set off to fetch their respective halves of the wedding party.

It wouldn't be until much later, after the speeches and the dances and the bride and groom were whisked off to the airport to head to their honeymoon, that the Best Man and Maid Of Honor picked up where they had left off on their conversation; Stacie sidling up to where Aubrey stood talking to some of Brody's friends, and wordlessly took the blonde's hand and led her to the still-crowded dance floor, Jenny and Brody's friends all willing to continue the party even if the bride and groom were no longer present.

Stacie smiled, noticing Aubrey had changed out of her bridesmaid dress at one point and into a fairly-conservative little black dress. "Couldn't stand it anymore?"

"The thing itches." Aubrey reasoned.

"Maybe I should have changed, too." Stacie mused.

"No," Aubrey shook her head. "Green looks good on you."

Stacie arched an eyebrow.

"Brings out the color of your eyes."

"You've noticed the color of my eyes?" Stacie asked, surprised.

Aubrey shrugged, like that wasn't a big deal. She smiled at Stacie. "I asked Brody. He says the green's about renewal and the balance between head and heart – or, in their case, the investment banker and social worker."

Stacie scrunched up her face. "That's…"

"And healthy relationships." Aubrey added.

"This eyesore of a dress is supposed to represent all that?"

"Jenny also said it's about pursuing new ideas."

Stacie smiled softly, and mused, "This dress represents pursuing new ideas?"

Green also meant change and a new state of balance, but they didn't have to know that.

"Well, to be fair, I think you look pretty good. Or you just look good in anything, I don't know." Aubrey let her voice trail off as she started to look away, before Stacie gently reached up and tilted her chin up to meet her gaze.

Once she was sure she held Aubrey's gaze, she drifted her hand to cup Aubrey's jaw, her thumb brushing against her cheek, and Stacie wondered if she'd ever seen eyes as riveting as Aubrey's. "This dress is still hideous though."

Aubrey had to smile. "I bet it'll look better on the hotel room floor."

Stacie laughed, and gave her a quick kiss. "We should try that."

Aubrey grinned. "Are you calling dibs?"

"I guess I have to, 'cause we didn't get married today."

"No, we didn't." Aubrey agreed, before leaning in close for another kiss. "I should buy you dinner first."

"The sandwich you bought on Friday night counts." Stacie replied, briefly licking her lips, before moving in to kiss Aubrey some more, their kisses occasionally interrupted by sound sentiments.

"At least one date."

"I have your number from the planning checklist, I'll call you." After a series of quick kisses, Stacie pulled back, gazing at Aubrey. "You're right."

"About–?"

"This dress itches."

Aubrey guessed, "Want me to help take it off?"

"You know, I think I do."

"Now?"

Stacie nodded. "Let's go."


	4. Virgin

**Prompt: Virgin**

* * *

She doesn't get it.

Well, she kind of _does_ , but that didn't mean she _liked_ it.

She hadn't noticed them when they had come in, but after getting their drinks and finding a space they could all fit comfortably, her gaze had fallen upon the scene and hasn't left since. As it were, Stacie scowled across the floor to the stairwell, where Aubrey was talking to Luke, Beca's station manager, and _of course_ Aubrey would be talking to Pretty Boy British Accent, who was on his sixth year of college because he was earning a second degree, and not a freshman who had a reputation for sleeping around.

But here's the part she just didn't get: for weeks she and Aubrey had been sleeping together, not quite as friends-with-benefits but more of a series of one-night stands, because none of those times had been planned, just the two of them at a party or event of some kind, and usually at least three drinks in, and then figuring out whose dorm room was closer and… well, _sex_. But then, out of nowhere, that all stopped. Aubrey still showed up at parties, but she stopped hanging out with Stacie, and stopped sleeping with the freshman.

And when Stacie had cornered her one day after rehearsals, asking why they weren't hooking up anymore, Aubrey had looked at her for one, long discerning moment and asked: "Is that what you really want?"

Like, what _even_ was that? She knew there was a three-year educational gap between them, who even knew what they were teaching in third year Philosophy or Psychology or whatever, much less on their _fourth_ and _graduating_ year, but Stacie was pretty sure sex was one of the areas that Philosophy shouldn't cover. Because sex was simple, and straightforward, and—

" _Is she touching him?_ " Stacie seethed, drawing the attention of her friends, who all turned from their conversation to follow Stacie's line of sight, at where Aubrey was laughing at something Gryffindor Quidditch Reject Keeper was saying, her hand on his arm, and Jessica, Ashley, Cynthia Rose, and Lilly all glanced at each other.

"Aubrey?" Jessica hazarded, because were they all looking at the right thing? Why would Stacie be concerned about their Bellas captain touching someone?

"No, Pam Beesly's sister. Yes, _Aubrey_." Stacie snapped, making Jessica take an alarmed step away from her. "Why is she touching him? How does she even know him?"

"Let's ask Beca," Cynthia Rose suggested, just as Beca and Chloe approached them.

"Ask Beca what?" Beca asked, sidling up beside Lilly.

"How does Aubrey know Luke?" Ashley asked.

Beca's brow furrowed, and she turned to check out what her friends were looking at, and frowned at the sight. She shrugged. "No idea."

"They used to have a class together." Chloe filled in. "Media Analysis, or something like that. I think they were even project partners."

"Dude!" Beca yelped, when Stacie's sudden tightening of her grip on her solo cup resulted in her drink spilling over. Beca, who had been nearest, was hit by stray beer.

Chloe eyed Stacie in concern. "Are you okay?"

"I need a drink." Stacie declared, dropping her crushed cup into a nearby planter, and went in the direction of the kitchen…

But took a major detour through the stairwell, accidentally/on purpose colliding into Not-Cedric Diggory, interrupting whatever cozy conversation he was having with Aubrey. "Oh, sorry! Am I interrupting?"

She ignored Aubrey's unimpressed look, and focused on Luke's amused one.

"Hi. Stacie, right? Becky's friend."

"Yeah. Hi." Stacie smiled at him flirtatiously, because Aubrey had to see him for the douchenozzle that he was. "And you mean Beca."

Ignoring Stacie, Aubrey chuckled, glancing back at Luke. "You call her Becky?"

Luke turned back to her, grinning. "She hates it so much."

"Does her face turn into one resembling a kitten plotting your murder?" Aubrey laughed.

"Yes!" Luke nodded. "How do you put up with that shiny sunny countenance so often?"

"God, at least she wants something from you," Aubrey told him. "She plays nice with you. She just harps on me like a bat out of hell."

"You really _should_ change your set, you know."

"That set got us to Finals last year." Aubrey reminded.

"Yeah, and everyone who cares about college a cappella have seen and heard it." Luke argued. "You don't owe Alice anything."

Aubrey scowled at him. "I don't want to talk to you anymore."

Luke laughed, and lifted his solo cup in a salute at her, before turning and leaving.

As soon as he was gone, Aubrey turned to Stacie. "Stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting." She so was.

"You should enjoy the party." Aubrey told her, before getting up from her seat on the steps, but as she stood up, Stacie moved forward, the two of them ending up with their faces mere inches from each other. Aubrey stilled, and gazed at Stacie, not backing down but not advancing, either. "What are you doing?"

"What are _you_ doing?" Stacie returned. "We need to talk."

"No, we don't."

"Aubrey, come on. I thought we were having fun, and you just…"

"Stacie." Aubrey interrupted, and sighed. "Yeah, it was fun. And we both know I had a good time."

"Then what's the problem?" Stacie demanded.

"The problem is that what I want from you isn't just random drunken sex at the end of a party." Aubrey said quietly. "And until you get that? We have nothing to talk about."

When she tried to move past Stacie, Stacie blocked her path on instinct, and Aubrey eyed her warily.

"What?"

Stacie looked at Aubrey for a beat, before grabbing her cup, and drinking its cola-flavored contents. _Odd._ Not beer. And no burn. _Interesting._

"You might want to slow down, there's no alcohol in that." Aubrey told her.

Stacie finished the drink, and frowned at Aubrey. "Why would you drink virgin rhum and Coke –so really just Coke – at a college party?"

"Because otherwise I'll end up drunk and having sex with you, and that defeats the purpose."

Stacie conceded that point, and looked down to take a deep breath before she lifted her gaze and looked up at her. "You asked me what I want, the other day."

"Yes, and?"

"What if I want all of that, too?" Stacie asked. "I mean, what if I want more than random drunk sex after parties, too?"

Aubrey gazed at her for a long moment, and then asked, "Do you?"

Maybe it was the change of perspective, looking up at Aubrey given her place higher up on the stairway, but Stacie wondered why she'd never noticed Aubrey's eyes had a hint of green in them. "I want it with you."

Aubrey's gaze fell on her now-empty cup in Stacie's hands. "Have you been drinking?"

"I spilled my beer before I could, so—" the rest of the explanation disappeared when Aubrey's mouth met hers, and, _okay_ , she gets it now, because her alcohol-tinged memories did not do Aubrey's kiss justice.


	5. Where's Stacie?

**Prompt: "Where's Stacie?"**

* * *

Honestly, she doesn't know why she'd fought this for so long, or how she'd forgotten how much easier life is when she wasn't taking everything so seriously like a life-or-death matter; just enjoying life to the fullest, being carefree and spontaneous and all the other pretty happy words that she'd somehow forgotten to be while fighting to stay in college, _not_ graduating.

But now that she had reconciled it within herself, this whole moving forward, letting go of the past, graduating at the end of the term deal, and, well, Chloe was finding life a pretty shiny prospect.

Sure, they still had to face Das Sound Machine in Copenhagen, and yeah, Beca was still oblivious as ever, and _okay_ , they still had to win Worlds to save the Barden Bellas from disbandment and get reinstated into the ICCAs, but other than those things, life was shiny.

She didn't know whose brilliant idea it was, but putting cinnamon in her cup of coffee that morning was like a whole new world opening up to her.

But, first things first, and the Bellas both old and new were going to go through their song for Worlds, and while she had a lot of faith in Beca and Emily, Chloe also knew that the tiniest factor could make or break _everything_ , and Emily's song, while great, was also untested.

She was on a cinnamon-tinted caffeine high, not delusional.

Probably knowing the most number of people in the room, since, _ha_ , she'd been a Bella for seven years (and had been the point of contact for all the alumnae), Chloe was left with the primary responsibility of socializing and mingling with everyone, bridging the gap between former and current, and had assigned a set of alumnae per current Bella before she had to stop, look around, and realize something important. Something vital. Something she should have noticed before.

Grabbing Beca's arm as she walked past, Chloe asked, "Where's Stacie?"

Beca paused, frowned, and looked around. "She's not here?"

Chloe gave her a narrow-eyed look.

"…You wouldn't ask otherwise, right." Beca acknowledged. "Well, you're her roommate. Wasn't she in bed this morning?"

Chloe paused, and realized, "no, she never came home last night."

Beca's brows furrowed. "She went out last night?"

"Yeah, pretty late." Chloe motioned Cynthia Rose and Flo over, as well as the nearby Emily, and asked them, "Have you seen Stacie?"

Emily frowned. "Stacie's not here?"

Beca gave her a wry look, which in turn earned her a skeptical one from Chloe.

"Not today, no." Cynthia Rose shook her head.

"Did she come home last night?" Flo asked. "Why was she going out so late last night, anyway?"

"What's going on?" Fat Amy asked, joining the huddle, eager to be part of any conspiracy.

"Where's Stacie?" Several voices asked her, taking the Australian aback.

"Misplace her, did you?" Fat Amy joked.

"This is ridiculous," Beca sighed, and then startled, before she rolled her eyes. "Lilly, where's Stacie?"

From behind her, Lilly poked her head out to be seen by the rest of the group, and mumbled something, the group then looking at her in confusion.

They glanced at each other, hoping any one of them had caught Lilly's statement, and at which point Jessica and Ashley had joined the group.

"Where's Stacie?" The duo asked the group, at the same time their friends parroted the question at them.

Beca, apparently, was right: it was ridiculous.

Especially when Fat Amy noted, "I have a better question for you."

They all turned to her questioningly.

Fat Amy motioned to their surroundings, at all the Bellas gathered inside their rehearsal space, and queried, "Where's Aubrey?"


	6. Prom

**Prompt: Prom**

* * *

When Chloe first told her about the offered paying gig, she'd been hesitant, not because the Bellas didn't need the money – they did – but because she knew from experience that anything prom-related came with built-in drama, and she honestly felt too tired to deal with that.

Yes, they were going to the ICCA finals, after all. Yes, Beca's set list was better than anything she could have come up with on her own.

But she was still the one doing the break downs for each part, because even if Beca, Lilly and Cynthia Rose were all better versed than she was when it came to rhythm and beatboxing – because that was now going to be a Bella thing, apparently – she was still the one with the experience and knowledge in breaking down songs, and since Beca's mix was admittedly pretty good, she was going to have to do Beca's set justice.

This was her life now.

But the Bellas needed funding for their trip to New York, they needed a place to practice their new sound without the pressure of competition, and Chloe's solution, apparently, was a high school prom.

The whole thing was coming in the heels of midterms, which Chloe was being suspiciously blithe about, considering it was their last semester in college. She had papers and presentations and a draft of her graduation thesis, so in a rare act of delegation, she had left the rest of the Barden Bellas to plan their set for Chloe's prom gig, and focused on her schoolwork. She showed up at rehearsals, did her part by rote, and only really focused when they were rehearsing their ICCA set.

So unsurprisingly, she was caught a little off-guard by the fact that Chloe had decided they wouldn't be using their Barden Bella uniforms to the performance.

"There's going to be prepubescent teenage boys there, Bree. How well do you think their dates will feel about them ogling the girls on stage?" Chloe had pointed out, and Aubrey had conceded to her logic.

She had some questions about opting for jeans and shirts as performance attire, but, well, considering what drama they were sure to witness, maybe comfort was appropriately a priority.

And on the subject of prom, it seemed, she and Beca were in agreement.

"What's so bad about prom?" Chloe demanded, en route to the event.

"It's… _prom_." Beca shrugged, as if the single word encapsulated everything she felt about it.

Aubrey, who sat in her seat quietly reading notes for a report she was yet to write, turned when she felt someone tug on her hair from behind.

Stacie leaned forward. "Why do you hate prom?"

"I don't hate it." Aubrey said, slightly defensive. "I just know prom night comes with unnecessary drama and I'd really rather not be a part of it."

Stacie raised a single eyebrow.

And then the words followed, because for reasons she didn't quite get, words had a tendency to tumble out of her when Stacie was involved, as if she were compelled to tell Stacie more than she was naturally inclined to.

"I know it's about the magic of putting on fancy dresses and being young one last time, and dancing with the boy – or girl – you love, but that's hardly ever what happens."

Stacie frowned, but didn't press the matter further.

Their first few songs went off without a hitch, and Aubrey gained a new level of appreciation for Beca's song choices, even if the way the parts were broken down left a lot to be desired. Well, she _did_ leave them to do it, so she didn't have anybody else to blame but herself, which was the only reason she bit back any criticism.

And then there was some activity in the middle of the floor, two girls fighting over a bewildered-looking boy, and Aubrey oddly felt sympathetic towards the boy. Two songs later, two boys got into a fist fight. Just when Aubrey was ready to breathe a sigh of relief, especially since Beca had brought her DJ equipment and the rest of the night's entertainment would be electronically-produced, coronation of Prom King and Queen was announced.

What happened next was exactly what she'd been dreading to witness.

All the candidates for prom royalty were onstage, waiting for the announcements to be made. When Prom King and Queen were announced, and took to the dance floor for their dance, while everyone watched them, Aubrey kept her gaze on the people left on the stage, because she'd seen the posters all over the entrance of the ballroom, both for couples and solo-running candidates.

Having been in a similar position so many times in the past, she could tell the story behind each candidate, and an approximate of the percentage of votes they got.

She also knew the story of what was happening at that moment.

Prom King wasn't dancing with his girlfriend.

And he hadn't even looked in her direction, only having eyes for Prom Queen.

Prom Queen was only too happy with her victory, unaware that the girl she had hugged when she had won her crown was currently suffering a broken heart.

Aubrey hated prom.

High school was a long time ago, and she'd lived a whole life in college since those days, but sometimes, she remembered, and everything she'd felt then came to the fore and reminded her of things she'd really rather forget.

"When I was a sophomore this guy asked me to the senior prom."

Aubrey bent her head, sighing in resignation that she wasn't going to get the solitude she was currently craving, and turned to face Stacie, who had joined her in the bleachers in the field near the gym. "What happened?"

Stacie smiled wryly. "My date came out of the closet two days later."

"Junior year my date and his friends spiked the punch and forgot that they did, and got wasted." Aubrey returned.

Stacie cringed. "Junior prom, I was sharing my date with a girl from another school who was having their prom the same night as ours. I want to say it ended well, but it really didn't."

Aubrey glanced at her. "What about senior prom?"

"I was on a robotics event in California. I didn't go senior year."

Aubrey nodded.

"You?"

"Senior year? Was straight out of a movie: the prom campaign, the limo, the lake with my friends."

"No hotel room?"

"It was a small town. Whoever ran the hotel would have told our parents."

Stacie, who didn't have that kind of experience, could only smile, before the smile faded as she asked, "so why the melancholy?"

Aubrey shrugged. "Just the reminder, I guess."

"Of what?"

"Of how vastly different life could be if you make different choices." Aubrey admitted. "Like the fact that my boyfriend was in love with my best friend and we all could have realized it sooner."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's…" Aubrey shook her head. "They didn't know, at the time. We all grew up together, and we were a team. And I was the one who got the guy, back then. But then college happened, and they went to the school we all thought we'd go to, but I went to Barden instead."

Stacie studied her carefully. "Do you regret it?"

"No." Aubrey smiled wryly. "It just makes you think, you know, if this guy had been in love with you at all, or if I was just the distraction until he got the girl he really liked."

"Yeah, but," Stacie shrugged. "At least you danced with the guy you liked at prom."

"And that whole time he could have been wishing he was dancing with someone else." Aubrey pointed out. "That's what they don't tell you about prom: almost everyone's guaranteed to be dancing with someone even while they're wishing they were dancing with somebody else."

Stacie gazed at her for one long moment, before getting to her feet and holding her hand out to Aubrey. "Let's go."

"Where?" Aubrey asked, taking Stacie's hand and letting the younger girl pull her to a standing position.

Stacie ignored the question, instead pulling Aubrey close, placing Aubrey's arms around her neck, and once she was sure Aubrey wasn't going to pull away, dug into her blouse, extracting her phone with a sly wink at Aubrey.

Aubrey had a feeling she knew where this was going, but her stupid pragmatic self just had to ask, "Now what?"

"Now we dance." Stacie picked a song, tucking her phone back into her top, and wrapped her arms around Aubrey's waist.

And it was nice, Aubrey had to admit, to just have this kind of quiet moment with someone, a feeling she hasn't had in a long time. Before she knew it, she was dancing closer to Stacie, the earlier stiffness and formality disappearing.

Two songs later, Stacie pulled Aubrey even closer to her, the distance between them almost nonexistent, and quietly asked, "Are you wishing you were dancing with anybody else right now?"

"No," Aubrey admitted softly. "This is fine." She turned her head slightly, meeting Stacie's gaze. "I like being here."

"Good." Stacie smiled. "I like you here."


	7. Wardrobe Malfunction

This will be the last chapter for the one-shots that I'll be posting here, the rest of it will be over on AO3. Just to streamline efforts.

Thank you for reading.

This doesn't involve Aubrey or Stacie much (or at all), but it's like an unofficial prequel to This Whole Rhapsody. Enjoy.

Spoilers for PP2.

(And warnings for language.)

 **Prompt: Wardrobe Malfunction**

* * *

She's pretty sure that without an internet connection, she would be a cautionary tale about marrying young, or about newlyweds who go where the husband's job takes them.

Honestly, Laura was just glad she had the internet, because one of her best friends, who worked in tech, constantly made their group of friends from college try different apps or programs to keep in touch and communicate. And she's glad for it, especially tonight - well, it was freaking the middle of the night for her, but whatever - because they all would get to watch the Barden Bellas, the group which they had all belonged to in college, back in Barden University, as the current group performed for POTUS on national television.

 _National television_.

Back in their day, just making it to the ICCA finals had been the goal, winning it and becoming national champions had been a distant dream.

Were she and her friends surprised that Alice's cutthroat approach to the Bellas would be the girls' first foray into the ICCA Finals? Not really. If anyone had the goal and ambition to do it, it would have been Alice and her take-no-prisoners approach to winning.

What was a surprise was that somehow, Aubrey (okay, actually it was probably Chloe, because Aubrey without Chloe was a disaster waiting to happen) managed to turn the Bellas' story around from the humiliation of 2011 to winning it the very next year.

And the Bellas were currently _three-time_ national champions. And tonight they were performing at the Kennedy Center. Live on national television.

And, thankfully, online.

The group chat was already active, and Laura put on her headset, ready to converse with her best friend, Taryn, while simultaneously engaging in the chat.

But first.

Laura buzzed the online but silent Aubrey, who immediately buzzed back, but didn't join the chat thread. Laura glanced over the online users of the group, which were all the Barden Bellas she had known in the four years she had been in college, and…

Oh. Alice was online.

And since the members of the current group about to perform were Aubrey's friends, she was probably nervous for all of them. Laura considered making a performance anxiety joke, but Aubrey probably didn't need that right now.

"About time," Taryn muttered, as Laura opened up the viewing window for the live feed from the Kennedy Center.

"What did I miss?"

"National anthem. Opening remarks. Marching band." Taryn reported.

And then, the marching band left.

The stage was still dark, but they could discern the silhouettes onstage, and the caption of the screen said "Barden University Bellas", making the group thread buzz with activity.

 _Eight members?_

 _They can't be having problems recruiting._

 _Maybe they're bitches._

 _Alice graduated._

 _Fuck you._

 _Lol Alice_

 _That's the girl behind their winning streak, right?_

 _Is that Chloe?_

 _IS THAT CHLOE?_

 _Didn't she graduate?_

 _Aubrey Posen did Chloe not graduate?_

 _Nice costumes._

 _How much did that cost._

 _Are those costumes tailored? Because we need to discuss, caps._

 _AUBREY._

 _Not a single scarf in sight._

 _They know the scarf is the sign that they're a Bella, right?_

 _AUBREY!_

Okay, maybe the girl was distracted by the fact that her girlfriend – and anyone who was friends with Aubrey on Facebook knew about and would recognize the girlfriend, their pictures were everywhere – was also onstage.

And kept touching herself.

"Aubrey's girlfriend's hot." Taryn mused. "And it still amuses me Aubrey has a girlfriend."

"Does she need to keep emphasizing her boobs, though?"

"Maybe Aubrey likes them."

Laura did not need to start thinking that about Aubrey, who was like a younger sister to her. "Not cool, Taryn."

Taryn laughed.

 _That much movement and footwork can't be good for their breath control._

 _You would know about breath control, Jenn. ;)_

 _Fuck you too. :P_

 _Jumps, wtf._

 _I smell backing track._

 _ikr?_

 _The sound's good for eight ppl._

 _The beatboxing's cool._

 _I guess that's how they beat the Treblemakers._

 _And Aubrey didn't throw up._

 _Let it go, Alice._

"Seriously she's touching her breasts every time the camera's on her." Laura noted. She typed a private message to Aubrey making the same observation.

And received a smiley face in return.

 _Why is a tumbler necessary?_

 _Visuals, obviously._

 _Sorry already blinded by the sequins._

 _Hey Posen were you hoping to win on diversity votes by recruiting these girls?_

 _Omg Em u can't just ask someone if they're the opposite of racist. You racist._

 _I'm with Em, it's a Benetton ad._

Aubrey, Laura noted, wisely chose to stay out of the chat.

 _Props._

 _PROPS._

 _Shit my feed stopped._

"The transitions are amazing." Laura observed, as she typed out the exact same thing.

"It's pretty flawless," Taryn agreed. "Aubrey said the team captain's an aspiring DJ?"

"With her madlib beats," Laura confirmed.

"Where'd Aubrey find her?"

"Chloe did."

"Seriously, is that Chloe?"

Laura typed the question to Aubrey in their private chat, and Aubrey answered.

 _Failed Russian Lit. Thrice_.

Laura was about to ask why when the chat exploded once more.

 _Holy wtf aerials why._

 _Aerials!_

 _Damn it mine's freezing too._

 _They know it's acapella, right, not Cher in Vegas or Pink at the Grammys._

 _It's not cool when it's not Cirque du Soleil._

 _Shut up aerials are cool when done right._

 _this isn't it._

 _Oh no no no who's that girl?_

 _Fat Amy._

"Rude." Laura and Taryn said together.

 _Don't be rude._

 _A bodysuit tho._

 _Bravery can get you anywhere._

 _Like performing in front of POTUS and Michelle O. in a body suit._

 _She calls herself Fat Amy._

 _Singing Miley._

 _Did we lift the mandate on bikini-ready bodies?_

 _Did we?_

 _Did you, Aubrey?_

 _Aubrey, for real, we can all see you're online._

 _Feed's fixed. thank fuck._

 _No wait why is she "Fat Amy"_

 _?_

 _Mine's still fucking around._

 _Why am I seeing this._

 _Why am I HEARING this._

 _Miley why._

 _Whyyyyyomg._

Laura jerked, startled, when the girl called Fat Amy's sheets tangled, and amidst all the voices, could still hear the audible rip. "Oh my God."

 _OMG._

 _WHAT._

 _MY EYES!_

 _!_

"Oh my God." Laura and Taryn said together, watching, as if in slow motion, as Fat Amy hung suspended in the air, legs askew, and even though the camera was a long shot, it was still clear what and where the wardrobe malfunction was.

Laura jumped out of her seat, and moved behind her seat, clutching on to the back of her chair, and hoping against hope that the curtains would close, the camera shot would change, _anything_.

 _WHY IS THIS STILL ON AIR_

 _CAMERA TWO OMG SWITCH CAMERA FEEDS_

 _OMFG_

 _THEY CUTTO BRANGLINA AT AWARDSHOWS ALLT HE TI ME_

 _IS SHE TURNING?_

 _DON'T JUST STAND THERE_

 _CHLOE FOR FUCK'S SAKE YOU'RE HOLDING A CURTAIN COVER THE GIRL_

 _CHLOE FFS_

 _SHE'S TURNING_

 _FFS_

Laura pulled off her headset – she and Taryn were too stunned to speak, anyway – and covered her mouth to keep from swearing any more, but still she couldn't turn away from the video feed.

And that's when she saw the little counter at the bottom of the screen, indicating just how many people were watching.

And the growing horror as the numbers ticked _upward_.


End file.
